Opened Window, Opened Arms
by GlassxFire
Summary: It has been a month and a half since the incident at the Opera House. Erik finds himself on his way to a house, a new life, and possibly, a new love. Erik/OC, T for safety.
1. A Beginning

"Elizabeth? Elizabeth!" A feminine voice called up the grand staircase. "Hm. Must be somewhere upstairs," the voice's owner told herself. She began up the stairs, pulling her skirts up to see as much of her feet as was possible around the bump that was her growing baby. She paused on the landing, looking up and down the hall that lead to the North and South wings. A door halfway down the South wing opened. Out came the manor's cook, Lauren, followed closely by the head of staff and maid, Elizabeth. "Elizabeth, I have been looking everywhere for you! Blake spotted the carriage not far up the road. They'll be here soon."

"Oh good! You two go on outside, I'll find Emily and Alec," Elizabeth told them in her very Irish accent, motioning them towards the door. She smiled, watching as Lauren and Citrine made their way back down the staircase. It didn't take long to find the young Emily. She was in North sitting room, polishing the shelves and rearranging the small trinkets. Elizabeth watched the eighteen year old quietly. The girl's dark hair had been pinned back into a bun, much like Elizabeth's own.

"Oh! Elizabeth, I didn't hear you come in." The brunette fanned her flushed face.

"I didn't mean to frighten you, Em. It appears our new employer is mere minutes from here. Get yourself on outside."

"But, Elizabeth! I'm almost done polishing the wood and-"

"Hush! You can finish it later. Now shoo! And grab Alec if you see him. Go on, shoo!" Elizabeth grinned, ushering the girl out of door. She paused, evaluating the girl's work. Nodding, she started out the door and down the hall, spying the graying Alec link arms with the bouncing Emily and escort her outside.

She paused, catching sight of her reflection in the small mirror that hung above one of the squishy sitting room armchairs. Green eyes peered back at her scrutinizingly. Copper ringlets were pinned into a bun at the back of her head, her dress reflected the customs of her home land; full swishing black skirts protected by a white apron instead of the sleeker skirts French women preferred. She rubbed her slender fingers over arms, moving to roll down her sleeves. She wrinkled her nose, inspecting the numerous freckles that dotted her face. With a shrug, she turned and made her way downstairs and out into the thawing yard.

--

_'Erik,_

_By the time you read this, you'll be well on your way to your new estate, Renault Fields. As the name suggests, wheat and also apples are grown on the property. The income is not lavish, but you shall live quite comfortably as a French Viscount. _

_I know it has only been a month and a half since the incident, but Erik you must continue on living. I can only hope you will learn to accept what has happened and move on with your work and your life. _

_In a week's time, you shall be attending a dinner party thrown by the Duke Thomas. You may thank Elizabeth, your head of staff, for this. Should you need advice or instruction, Elizabeth or Alec will be pleased to assist you. _

_Take care, Erik. After all I've done for you, please just take care. I know you still mourn what happened and most likely hate yourself for it, but look around you. You'll find happiness and comfort somewhere. And I certainly hope it's at Renault Fields._

_Sincerely,_

_ Ann Giry'_

Erik sighed heavily, looking out the window of the carriage. Not far ahead he could spy the gate that would lead to his new home. He wrinkled his nose, reaching up to ensure that his mask was still in place. The gates opened and the carriage rumbled to what appeared to be a very large almost-castle like house. He could see the six servants lined up outside the front door. The carriage came to a sudden halt and the driver jumped down to help him out. He heard what looked to be the youngest maid gasp. The pregnant woman beside her hushed her quietly. A red haired woman stepped forward and curtsied.

"I'm Elizabeth, if it pleases you Monsieur Renault. I am the head of staff. Lauren has prepared a most excellent meal if you're hungry," she motioned to the honey-haired cook. "I'll show you to your room if you'd prefer to rest first." She looked at him expectantly. She turned her head towards the two men, leaning it towards the carriage. Both men moved to take what little luggage Erik had brought with him.

Erik surveyed the woman in front of him. She dressed differently than the three behind her. And she had an accent. An Irish accent. Curious. She had freckles, though she appeared relatively pale. As long as she did her job well, he could care less though. "Show me to my room."

"Of course Monsieur." The other servants took this as their cue to be dismissed. Erik followed Elizabeth through the foyer, up the Grand Staircase, and to the end of what she informed him was the North Wing.

"Here it is Monsieur. If it displeases you, there is another room in the South Wing. I, and the rest of the servants, are located on the ground floor. Just go down the staircase and to your right. Feel free to find us there or wake us at any time should you need something. Take a left and you'll end up in the kitchens, cellar, and pantry. The South wing contains the library, two guest bedrooms, and a few other assorted rooms. The stables are located at the back of the estate. There are three very fine creatures there. All available for rides. Alec or Blake will gladly saddle them for you."

Erik looked at her nodding. He looked around what was to be his room. There was a small sitting room, then a door that lead to the master bedroom and bathroom. A second door led to a small study. "This will please me just fine," Erik told the head of staff, nodding.

"Will you take your dinner here? Or down in the dining room?"

"Here. Just leave it on that table there."

"Of course, Monsieur." Silence passed between them for a moment. Elizabeth inspected her employer and her employer inspected his room. "If you have no more need of me..."

"You may go."

Elizabeth curtsied and left the room quietly. She spied Alec and Blake bringing up the small amount of Erik Renault's luggage. '_Hm,' _she thought to herself, '_what an odd man this Monsieur Renault...'_


	2. Dinner and a Mirror

Elizabeth gave two sharp raps on Erik's bedroom door, careful not to upset the steaming tray that balanced on her hip. There was no was answer. She rapped again. Still no answer. With a sigh, she opened the door, glancing around.

"Monsieur? Monsieur, your dinner is here," She called, setting the tray down on a small table. She picked up one of two glasses, filling it with water, then the second with wine. "Eat it soon Monsieur. Lauren will be quite displeased if it grows cold and then you won't touch it!" She called towards the closed bedroom door. Elizabeth rolled her eyes, exiting the room and making her way down to the kitchen where the servants ate.

--

Erik groaned, listening as his head of staff delivered his dinner. As kind as she seemed, he wished she would just leave him alone. He sat down on the bed. It was comfortable, and the sheets were soft. The room had goldenrod wallpapering, and the trim was done in an appealing shade of crimson. Definitely not what Erik would have picked for himself, but still pleasing to the eye. He got up and peered out the window. He could spy the stables, and what would become the orchards and wheat fields all covered in a slowly thawing layer of white.

Erik inhaled deeply. The meal that Elizabeth had brought wafted to his nose. And it smelled divine. He slowly opened his door, peering out to make sure that the redhead had left. She most certainly had. He almost pounced on the tray, withdrawing into his room immediately to devour it.

In mere moments, the tray was empty but for crumbs. He hastily wiped his mouth on the back of his sleeve. His motion caused the white mask to shift painfully on his skin. He grimaced, affixing it carefully into it's proper position. He looked up, catching sight of his reflection in the full length mirror next to the wardrobe. Green eyes. Long legs. Broad shoulders. Powerful arms. White mask. A white mask that covered his horrible disfigurement. And Erik stared. He stared at himself. He stared until he could no longer take it. In a flurry of anger, he punched the bed, cursing to himself. He needed to get away from this room. Away from the thing in the mirror.

Hastily, he grabbed up the tray, nearly tipping the bottle of wine he hadn't touched. He left his room in a rush, using the tray as an excuse to escape from there. Erik took a left, heading towards the kitchen. He stopped, hearing voices. His servants. Carefully he edged towards the open door until he could hear the voices clearly.

"I would agree with you Lauren. Though, I should think we will have one more large snowstorm before we completely thaw out." A deep voice. Alec, Erik though it must be.

"As much as I love winter, I shall be glad for the warm weather. And for fresh vegetables." Erik could almost hear Elizabeth grinning. The kitchen fell silent except for the sound of forks and plates and glasses clinking.

Then, "What do you make of our new employer?" It was the pregnant one. Citrine.

"I find him quite fearsome. And that mask he wears. Do you think he could be wound from a fight? He could be a killer! Oh, he makes me jumpy." It was the youngest maid, Emily.

"Hush Em. Don't say such things. What have I taught you? Don't judge people until you truly, completely know and understand them. I'm sure he's a good man at heart," Elizabeth provided. Erik could not believe his ears. Was she defending him? She hadn't even spent more than mere minutes with him. How could she know what he was at heart? And at heart, he definitely wasn't a good man. Erik heard chairs scooting back. If he didn't move soon, he'd be found. He looked around, panicking. Suddenly, the door opened and there appeared the slightly surprised face of Elizabeth.

"Oh, Monsieur Renault. You startled me," Elizabeth professed, placing a hand across her chest. "You should have left that," She motioned towards the tray in Erik's hands. "I was about to send Emily up for it. You shouldn't troubled yourself so, Monsieur. We maids are very capable." Erik could hear the giggle that this brought from the women clearing the table.

"Of course. Next time I shall simply leave it." His voice was quiet, awkward.

"Is there anything else you need, Monsieur? I could draw you a bath. Or perhaps you would rather discuss next week's dinner party?" Elizabeth questioned cheerfully. Blake stood awkwardly in the doorway behind them. Elizabeth noticed this and moved out of the way, pulling Erik aside by the elbow.

Her touch was soft, but it felt like someone had pressed hot metal to his skin. He pulled away quickly, watching her warily. It felt the same as the last time he had touched Christine. When she had given him back the engagement ring in his home beneath the Opera House. It seemed so long ago, and somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew that he was ridiculous for loving her. Ridiculous for still thinking about her. He had to move on.

"Dinner party?" Erik croaked, peering at her.

"Why, yes. The Duke Thomas's dinner party. Surely Madame... Madame..." She trailed off trying to remember the woman's name.

"Giry. Madame Giry," Erik supplied quietly.

"Yes, that's the one. Surely Madame Giry told you of it."

"Yes. I remember now. We shall speak of it later. I think I shall just retire now."

"Of course Monsieur. Should you need anything else, I'll be in my room." Elizabeth watched as the man turned and ascended the Grand Staircase. She frowned, shaking her head.

"Elizabeth?" It was Citrine.

"So small a man, in such a physically imposing body."

"I'm afraid I don't follow," Citrine answered, brows knitting together.

"He's lonely. I can tell. I do hope he can break free of his shell. He seems like such a good man at heart," Elizabeth's voice was quiet as she watched Erik retreat out of sight.

"You've spent not more than ten minutes with the man. Of course, you've always had a knack for understanding what lay beneath a person's flesh," Citrine grinned, placing her hand on her friend's shoulder. "Now, come. Be a dear, and walk a pregnant woman home."

"Anything for a friend. How is Ryan?" The two women retrieved their shawls, linked arms and proceeded to Citrine's small snow covered house just behind the vegetable patch.


	3. A Ducal Truth

The house was very silent and very dark. This peace did not last very long. Throughout the house, clocks chimed four. The fading tones were quietly smothered by the dark. The darkness had been replaced in one room with the light of a few candles. It was Elizabeth's room.

She lit the remaining few candles, yawning widely. She blew out the match, tossing it into the trash. With a groan, she reached her hands upwards, standing up onto her toes as she stretched. She exhaled heavily hearing multiple _pops _and _cracks_ resound throughout her flesh.

She walked to her wardrobe slowly, staring at it a moment before she pulled it open. She stuck one hand into the mess of fabric, covering her mouth with her free hand as she yawned again. Not looking very closely, she fished around until her hand found a loose garment. She pulled it out. Cream.

"Meh. It's clean." Elizabeth mumbled to herself, hanging it over the edge of her dressing screen. In a few minutes time, she came out fully dressed and hair pinned back.

As silently as she could, Elizabeth sneaked out of her room, and headed to the kitchen. She pulled out a kettle, filled it with water, and set it on the table. She stoked the fire in the hearth. Carefully, she added two more logs, waiting until the fire crackled merrily to put the kettle in. Biting her lip, she went to grab her apron from behind the open door. Turning, she suddenly noticed the full dressed figure of Erik.

"Oh! Monsieur, you scared me near to death. You move as silently as a shadow," She told him in a whisper. She unhooked her apron, trying it around her waist and smoothing it with her hands. "You should not be awake at this hour Monsieur. It is not yet dawn."

"I could not sleep."

Elizabeth stood expectantly. When nothing more came, she sighed. "May I offer you some tea? No? A chair then?" Elizabeth smiled, watching as the tall man took a seat at one of the kitchen chairs. She continued to bustle about, washing the dishes that had been left to soak overnight and making tea. Finally, she took a seat across from Erik, sliding him a cup of tea and taking a sip of her own. The two sat in silence awhile, occasionally sipping from their tea. Elizabeth only spoke when both their mugs of tea were empty.

"I would speak with you in the parlor before dinner, Monsieur. Now, back to bed with you." Elizabeth ushered the yawning man out of the kitchen and back up the stairs. She returned to the kitchen and cleared away the two cups.

"Just talk were you?" Lauren leaned in the doorway.

"Hush, Lauren. I was making myself tea and then suddenly he was there. I offered him some and a chair. Nothing more."

"Highly improper. Especially with you engag-"

"Hold your tongue, Lauren. My marriage is not your business," Elizabeth's voice was strained.

"It is if you're unhappy," Lauren snipped back. The cook frowned, pulling out a lump of dough she had let rise overnight. She dropped it with a thud in front of the Irish woman. "Knead," She commanded, sprinkling the table with flour.

Elizabeth began kneading it violently. She'd thunk it down hard and viciously force the heels of her hands into the pliable dough.

"I said 'knead' not massacre. You're going to force all the air out. Stop pretending it's Monsieur Delven's face," Lauren was half teasing and half scolding. Nonetheless, Elizabeth cast her an irritated look.

--

A piano. A gorgeous black lacquered piano. His staff had neglected to mention the instrument in the parlor. Erik sat on the bench, fingers gently caressing the ivory keys. A rap on the door made him jump. "Come in." He called, hastily taking a seat in on the small couch.

Elizabeth entered through the door. She had large snowflakes in her hair and on her dress. The smaller snowflakes had begun to melt and sat like little gems. Erik couldn't help but compare her to Christine the night she had first taken over for Carlotta. Elizabeth looked stunning, but she wasn't wearing jewels or silk.

"Mademoiselle, please. Have a seat." Elizabeth sat.

"Monsieur. I wish to discuss Lord Thomas's dinner party. The one next Tuesday."

"Please, call me Erik when we are speaking as two highly civilized people and not employer to employee."

"Of course... Erik. You must call me Elizabeth then," She offered up a slightly lopsided smile.

"Now tell me of this Lord Thomas. Who is he?"

"He is a Duke. He lives about half an hour's ride away at Blaire Stables."

"A Duke you say? Must be an arrogant jerk of a man who stepped on the little people to get to where he is now," Erik cut in, snorting.

"He is also my brother." This stopped Erik dead in his tracks. He looked at her wide eyed for a moment.

"You-You're brother?"

"Yes."

"I apologize. I didn't mean- That is to say, I..."

"No offense taken. He is often mistaken for that. Especially as we came here from Ireland not more than commoners. My brother began breeding horses. The Irish stock is particularly fine."

"Forgive me for asking, Elizabeth," Her name stirred some strange feeling in the back of his mind, "but if your brother is a Duke, why are you working as a maid in my household?"

"I prefer controlling my own life. Now being the sister of a Duke, he has written me into his will. Should he meet an unfortunate end with no wife or children, I shall be named Duchess. Which is precisely why I shall be accompanying you to this dinner party my brother is throwing. He believes it will be beneficial to your social status-" She heard Erik snort, "-and I agree that it would be a good idea for people to meet the new Viscount."

"I can't say no, can I?" Erik grumbled.

"Nope. If I have to get a dressed up and fancy, so do you. Alec will be instructing you later in the week as to proper mannerisms-"

"I know the proper mannerisms."

"Oh. Well. I shall tell him then."

"Good."

The pair sat in silence for a moment.

"I must go help with dinner, Monsieur. If you'll excuse me," She was back to being formal. With a curtsy, Elizabeth turned and left, making her way down to the kitchen. Erik took a seat at the piano, allowing himself to play whatever came to mind. And so, he once again poured his heart out to the black lacquered instrument.


	4. Truths in the Library

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Erik only stopped his heartfelt playing when his fingers became extremely sore. He flexed them, examining the red tips which made his eyes smart as he attempted to start playing again. Sighing, he decided to give it up for the night. He rubbed at his eyes with the back of his hand, looking around to the clock. Nine-thirty. He had been playing for quite sometime. He yawned, catching sight of a silver tray. He had not heard anyone enter. He must have been too preoccupied. His dinner of baked chicken and vegetables and a carafe each of water and wine sat gleaming on a small end table. A small folded note leaned against the carafes. Curious, he opened it.

'_Monsieur,_

_ You should really eat your food when it's fresh. If you don't eat on a set schedule, you'll never be anything but skin and bones. Eat it all or I shall have Lauren stuff it down your gullet._

_ E'_

Erik rolled his eyes. "My gullet? What a crude woman..." He mumbled, picking up the tray and carrying it back to his room, hoping it was still warm.

--

The Library was large. This was not to say that it was spacious. Indeed, it was not very spacious as every flat surface was stacked with books. The shelves along the walls were completely filled, and still books were stacked-neatly-on the tables beside the large squishy armchairs. Erik had begun his exploration of the marvelous room not long after breakfast. He had even taken lunch in the room, being incredibly careful to keep every little crumb from falling between the delicate pages. It was now the middle of the afternoon, and Erik was browsing for a large novel to lose himself in. Two sharp raps on the hardwood door startled Erik out of his browsing reverie.

"Come," He called, turning back to the shelves and running his fingers along the spines of several books.

"Monsieur," Elizabeth entered, dipping a curtsy and clasping her hands behind her back.

"Mademoiselle. What brings you here?"

"I... I must ask a favor of you. It nothing big, I assure you," Her voice held the slightest tremble, but it was her downcast eyes that made Erik suspect something.

"What is this favor? Is something... wrong?"

"Wrong? Oh, no. No. No," She answered hastily. She let out a sigh, shaking her head slightly. "I just... I'm expected to have dinner. Tonight. With my _fiancé__._ I came to ask your permission to leave my duties early," Elizabeth admitted, twisting her hands together uncomfortably. Erik stared at her for a moment. To Elizabeth, the silence was deafening.

"Your... Your _fiancé? I was... unaware you were engaged."_

_ "I don't normally bring it up," Her reply was curt._

_ "And why is that?"_

_ "It does not concern you, Monsieur. I simply ask you give or deny me your permission and send me on my way." Elizabeth watched him, feeling her temper and the color in her face rise. She and Erik stared at one another for a moment, before Erik turned away._

_ "You're not fond of him, are you?"_

_ Elizabeth stuttered softly, eyes wide. Finally she sighed, rubbing her temples with her fingers. "No. I'm not fond of him. Not in the slightest," She admitted, staring at the corner of the carpet._

_ "Sit," Erik commanded, motioning to a chair and then taking one across from it. He sat watching her silently, waiting for her to speak._

_ When she finally did, she sounded wearied beyond much beyond her age. "His name is Frederick Williams. He is seven years my senior. To be frank, Monsieur-" _

_ "Erik. We are talking as two people of rank and not employer to employee. Erik."_

_ "Erik, then. To be frank, Erik," She paused, her eyes flicking up to meet his, "he is only using me as a way to ensure he ends up with more money he deserves. He is most certainly not a man of respectable nature. But, I, nor my brother, can convince my father of this. His only wish is to see me married and supported when I am old. He has been blinded by this wish. He doesn't want me to die alone, even if the man I marry I do not love. I cannot blame him. I've never brought many suitors to the door," her voice was soft and sad. Elizabeth had averted her eyes unconsciously to examine the leg of an end table._

_ "I am... twenty-five, Erik. I know my position an-"_

_ "Position?"_

_ "Frederick is perhaps my last chance to marry. I may not-____do not__ love him, but he is my only option, should I wish to not die an old maid. Love has given up on me, Erik. I do not wish to be alone. I am terrified to be alone. And Frederick is my only way option to save myself from that fate. And I shall live comfortably, even if I am not in love," she told him, tipping her head back and to the side to peer at him. Suddenly, she stood, smoothing out her skirts, and looking around uncomfortably._

_ "Elizabeth-"_

_ "I must go Monsieur. With your permission, of course."_

_ "I... but... You have it," he told her, rising. Elizabeth gathered her skirts and hastily fled, not even remembering to shut the door behind her. Erik took two steps almost as if to follow her. '____No. She will not be another Christine,'__ Erik thought to himself, shutting the oaken door firmly. He glanced about the room, attempting to return to his previous tasks, but finding his buzzing mind too distracting._

**A/N: Mmkay**.** I finally got this one updated. I had a few different drafts of this, but I like this one best. I'll leave the notice up for a week or two after I post the next chapter. I'll be posting the first of a few chapters of an original story on fictionpress soon. Check my profile page for the link. Thanks for reading, everyone! **

**-Glassy**


	5. Notice to my Readers

Alright, guys. Don't Panic. I'm not deleting the story or discontinuing it or anything. Let me start from the beginning So, I took a break these last few days, mostly because I had a large four way birthday party with three of my other friends. Anyways, I know I'm only a few chapters in, but I'm re-writing. I had a bit of an epiphany. Well. Maybe not an epiphany. But I certainly figured out a more solid direction I want to send this story. So, if you'll bear with me for a few days, I'll have the chapters re-written and the next one up. I won't be writing a whole new story. Just a few changes here and there. You know. Name changes, adding/removing/replacing scenes, changing a few characters.

Remember, Don't Panic! You'll be able to skim over the chapters to get the gist of what changed. Thanks for staying with me through this, guys. And thank you to the people who have reviewed or left me comments! You're all appreciated greatly. A special thanks should go to Keyklee who has reviewed every single chapter. Thank you so much! I love hearing from you guys (although I'm a little notorious for not responding...), really I do. If you have any ideas, predications, thoughts, comments, talk to me. Really, I'm just a normal person trying to make my way through life. Just like you.

Well that's enough from me. I should get back to writing. Yours,

GlassxFire


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